Monthly Archives: April 2011

Honey Badger cares about trivia

but he’d never let YOU know that.  Because he only cares for questions about important things, like AshleyMadison.com or Guns n’ Roses or Denny’s.  And you know what?  The rest of the questions can go fuck themselves.

I would like to stop for a moment here to clarify that this post has nothing to do with whether or not MY team, which may or may not have been named “Honey Badger Don’t Care,” won at trivia tonight.  This post has everything, instead, to do with Honey Badger’s personal feelings about trivia.

This post also doesn’t have anything to do with being consistently, unreasonably, outraged by the fashion choices of MUNI passengers.  Or listening to Hall N Oates’ “Rich Girl” on repeat all the way home as some sort of passive-aggressive retribution in response to a lack of Hall N Oates trivia questions.  Or discovering that my apartment building’s elevator is actually the epicenter of solitary drunk dance party bad-assness.

Nope.  This post is only to let you know that Honey Badger is a nasty-ass competitor who drinks himself silly out of spite when he loses a pub trivia quiz.  In case you’re wondering – in case you ever run into him – his beverage of choice is Maker’s Mark.

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Forget about my blog

Because this is the best blog that has ever existed.  There’s no reason for any other blogs to keep going.

Dear Every Other Blog In The World: How can you find the strength to go on when you know you have already been defeated 1,000 times over by Hyperbole and a Half?

Ammendment to Yesterday’s List: More Excitement

Huge oversight yesterday afternoon in neglecting to mention my unwavering excitement about this:

Things I am Excited About

 1) The new issue of NANO Fiction that just arrived in the mail today.  So pretty.  And I’m awful proud to be in there with peeps like Brian Oliu and the always intimidatingly fantastic Brandi Wells.

2) The new issue of FRiGG, released yesterday, in which I have a few poems.  God, they do such a good job with the artwork.  Thank you, FRiGG, for being great and for keeping it up for such a good, long time.

3) The Wigleaf playlist, which I spent the day listening to.  Thank you for reminding me about Sleigh Bells.

4) This

5) Going to Europe next month.

6) Rose Metal Press’ new chapbook collection, They Could No Longer Contain Themselveswhich is obviously going to be so good that you’ll probably think about shooting yourself in the head while you’re reading it so you can end it all on a high point.

7) That new job you got at the Opera.

8)  Finally getting a chance to read the latest elimae.  Jesus Christ – Lincoln Michael,  Helen Vitoria, Elizabeth Ellen – y’all got some beautiful words up in you.

THINGS I AM NOT EXCITED ABOUT

1) Running out of peanut butter.

2) The last half of the 2nd season of Twin Peaks.

Call for submissions: Bar Napkins

One of the greatest discoveries I’ve made over the past few years is the unparalleled effectiveness of bar napkins in brain storming and planning processes.  Pretty much I’m convinced that the Fibonacci sequence was first realized through a marathon note taking session on a string of whiskey soaked napkins.  Also, this was how the pilot episode of Twin Peaks was written.

The point is that I think bar napkins deserve their due as a viable platform for ideas generated during drinking.  How else are you supposed to remember that really useful insult generator your friend came up with?

The problem is that now I’m worried that I’ll miss something very important if I don’t dedicate a portion of every drinking session to sketching out a list, letter to the editor or scientific hypothesis on a bar napkin.  Which is maybe getting annoying to people and maybe also resulted in me being really disappointed  recently when my brunch companions vetoed the “Is it Cheating or Not?” venn diagram session.

Please help me legitimize the art form by sending me your bar napkin lists.

I DON’T KNOW WHY LIFE IS SO HARD AND I’M VERY SORRY THAT IT IS SO HARD

Last week, I found out that Elvis Costello has a country album, Almost Blue. It came out in 1981. Which means I was only one year into my life when this genius was released to the world. And then a bonus disc was released in 1994. And then again in 2004.

The thing is that somehow, I’ve lived basically my entire life without realizing this album existed. Mostly, I want to know a) why no one ever told me b) how I could be so willfully ignorant and c) WHY LIFE IS SO HARD.

I’m happy to have discovered this album now, but I feel a deep and abiding sadness because I’ve kind of wasted 30 years of my life. I’ll be honest, my heart is bruised.

Luckily I have some other happinesses recently that aren’t tinged with sorrow. Boat loads of publications!

3 poems in Prick of the Spindle – and make sure to read CL Bledsoe’s “Reynard in Love” while you’re poking around over there. Christ, it’s good.

2 super shorts in Corium’s astoundingly impressive anniversary (Michael Kimball! Robert Lopez! Donna Vitucci! Rusty Barnes! Sean Lovelace!! It’s a party AND A HALF).

A piece up in mud luscious, sharing pages with a poem by Troy Urquhart that will make your heart stop. But only for a second. It’s not a death poem or anything.

A short story up in Dark Sky Magazine featuring sexual fantasies about Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld. YOU KNOW YOU WANT IT.

And here is where I do a good deed by urging you to read Alissa Nutting’s Unclean Jobs for Women and Girls as soon as possible if you haven’t already because its genius is on par with an Elvis Costello + Patsy Cline song baby.

No, seriously. The reason you keep hearing from everyone about how great this book is is because it’s a great fucking book. The longer you wait to read it, the more your happiness is going to be tinged with despair for waiting so long. Don’t let this be your Almost Blue. Don’t make life harder for yourself.